


the light is coming (to give back everything the darkness stole)

by mercy_mayhem



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Sex, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Possessiveness, Public Sex, Sex in a place of worship, Unsafe Sex, Witch Rituals, Witchcraft, just two princes fuckin in a witch church i guess, so clearly i'm obsessed with sweet pea being a witch? lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 12:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17662556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercy_mayhem/pseuds/mercy_mayhem
Summary: Jughead isn't sure about anything at all, apart from this.





	the light is coming (to give back everything the darkness stole)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a practicing witch but instead of actually practicing my craft this evening, I wrote this odd little witchy porny one-shot. It's meant to be a lot of imagery and insinuation for the sake of Jugpea porn, so, eh, enjoy!

If there was fear lingering in him before it had dissipated by the time he reached the so-called temple that Sweet Pea spoke about with wide eyes. Jughead would argue he always knew there was something more to the tall soldier in arms he had become enamored with recently, like a beckoning finger daring him to come closer. That's always been his weakness. Curiosity, a blight and a blessing, running into the arms of hell rather than sprinting for safety, because running into hell and screaming " _take me if you dare!_ " at demons made him feel alive. That's why, when Sweet Pea was grinning recklessly at him all those moons ago, when he grabbed Jughead's chin and placed a feather-light kiss on his lips, Jughead kissed back.

He had ran into hell and the devil tasted like cherry wine.

Sweet Pea's secret wasn't a secret, more a disguise, one he shook off quickly as they began their descendant into madness, two crazy boys desperate for something they can't name. Jughead had tripped into Pea's family's shitty apartment in a South Side tower block and drank it all in, the altars stacked with candles and photographs, the incessant burning of something, the mutterings in a language he never understood, Pea's Mother on her knees and swaying as she chanted. He never asked what it was, what it _is_ , but he let Pea stand him in front of the wooden altar pushed up against a cracked wall, a hand on his back.

"Say your prayers," Sweet Pea had asked, or perhaps demanded.

Jughead doesn't remember speaking but his wishes came true regardless as after that Sweet Pea was tugging on his hand and shoving him down onto his mattress, the rest of his home blocked out, even if Jughead could still smell the burning, _lavender and myrrh_. Pea kissed him like he was searching for something, hands gripped around Jughead's jaw as Jughead matched his feverish passions, clawing at his fellow serpent, moving his hands like he's supposed to, like they all do in the porn he watches silently under his duvet at night. He didn't expect Pea to grab at his wrist, eyes blazing furiously.

"No," Sweet Pea said, the denial going straight to Jughead's crotch, " _no_."

It was always _no,_ the saddest sound Jughead had ever heard, yet Jughead wasn't crazy. He felt Sweet Pea's hard dick press against his own cock, filling as Pea ravished him, harsh kisses to his neck and large hands roaming, exploring his body as they found themselves tucked into a corner in an empty back room at the Wyrm. It was always _no_ , until tonight.

Funny, how life goes - Jughead knew of "The Temple", an old abandoned relic of a building, church-like, in the belly of the forest. Rumours fashioned it as a church where hundreds of years ago all churchgoers were exposed as demons, witches, the church a front, and it was a place of excited, childish horror when Jughead was just a kid. Now he's walking inside, eyes open but barely looking, like the people in there aren't truly real. Is any of it? He walks down the wide aisle where Pea is stood, arm out stretched, waiting for Jughead's hand to fit inside his. Jughead doesn't need an explanation. Pea leads them to the Crypt, underground, candles burning as bodies stand in prayer, thought, murmurs and echoes of conversations bouncing off the bricks. Jughead isn't really listening. It's different, underground, large stone baths akin to Roman ruins, humans floating in them, smiles and laughter of lovers and worshippers in the warm waters until the two boys reach an empty pool, one just for them. 

"Here," Sweet Pea says, "we'll celebrate, here."

Jughead wants to ask what, but he doesn't. He watches as Pea unzips his backpack, flung to the floor, before standing tall, staring Jughead down. 

"Strip," Sweet Pea says, and Jughead does. It's full, this wet crypt, of the devil only knows who, but Jughead is not interested, nor is he interesting. Now, here, with Sweet Pea, in this world, he is not FP Jones's son nor Archie Andrews's sidekick. He's a believer, even if he isn't, not really. He slides off the jacket, the beanie, not realising his hands are shaking with desire until Sweet Pea steps in, kind but impatient, assisting him out of his t-shirt. They're quiet, the waves of the water and the quiet chatter around them present, but that is all. Jughead feels nerves kick in as Pea moves to peel his boxers off him.

"Hey," Pea murmurs, soft, nuzzling his cheek with his nose, thumbs rubbing into Jughead's hips, "it's just us. Don't worry."

Jughead must nod, because then his boxers are coming off, and he's naked and warm in front of his fellow snake.

He should feel embarrassed, but Pea was right, a holiness about him, making Jughead believe, submit, and instead he stands and stares as Pea copies his actions, exposing his skin to the moonlight which infiltrates the abandoned church and the flames of the candles surrounding them. Jughead is only human, only a boy, so he looks, drinking down the unbelievable height, the broad shoulders, the way Pea's cock curves a little, hanging low and large. Jug isn't small, but he feels it in comparison. Of course, Pea notices. 

"I'll look after you," he swears, cupping Jughead's cheek as he's taken a liking to doing. Jughead tries to swallow, his throat dry, letting the other boy walk him onto the wet steps of the bathing crypt which awaits them. He's glad, that the other bodies are dotted about, men and women too busy in their own prayer and worship and love to care about _them._ Pea reaches behind, locating a plastic tub, cracking it open. It's full of white, thick mixture, which Sweet Pea scoops with his fingers before using his spare hand to hold Jughead still, Jug's slender neck in his grip.

"Close your eyes," Pea asks, and Jughead obeys, surrendering himself to the physical. Gentle fingers swipe over his eyelids, the tip of his nose, the curve under his eye, a thumb pressing into his cupid's bow.

"Do me," Sweet Pea says, bringing Jughead out of his dreamy state. Jughead copies, taking the white paint mixture and directing it across Sweet Pea's closed eyelids, his nose, making sure his fingers mirror the feeling of Pea doing it to him. He doesn't know the meaning of it, but as if he's only fully seeing the other people now, he sees their faces - painted golds, pinks, whites, blues - and with that, he kisses Pea, transferring some paint from his lips.

"You look beautiful," Jughead tells him, because it feels important to say that, looking at the tall man with determined eyes and it's oh so worth it when Sweet Pea laughs, the sound bouncing off the walls, before grabbing Jughead's waist, pulling him into the murky waters with a shriek and helpless laughter. Jughead knows, he can hear the voice of logic somewhere buried at the back of his mind, that he should feel uneasy, this public display of indecency - wrong, somehow - but it feels meaningless. His alter ego's protests feel as dumb as a priest telling him it's wrong that he wants to hitch up and lock his ankles around Pea's hips, to feel Sweet Pea's dick hard and demanding against him. There are no walls left to beat into a pile of dust. Freedom is here, underground, in this most peaceful and beautiful Hell.

He doesn't care, doesn't feel shame when Pea twists him round, hipbones knocking into the cut bricks of the pool, Pea hard and eager behind him.

"Yes," Jughead gasps, barely even being touched, "take it, take me," he moans, not sure where it's coming from, as if all the things he would never normally say are unlocked and roaming free inside of him, in control of his body and his tongue.

"Yeah? You want it?" Sweet Pea asks, fingers dangerously close as he feels at Jughead's ass, his crack, the water soothing and ticklish.

"Please, yes," Jughead confirms, happy and melting when Pea takes his neck again, gently, hand over his throat as he encourages Jughead to lean back for a purposeful, wet kiss.

He stays like that, like a precious object in Sweet Pea's grip, hair against Pea's cheek as the older boy finally teases the rim of Jughead's asshole, pressing in. The heady, lustful aura of the temple has made him jelly-like, wobbly, free from the shackles of normalcy and manners, but it's still Sweet Pea fingering his ass open in a goddamn pool in a church, and it makes his face flare bright pink. The heat of the water, the uneasy stretch as Pea introduces another finger, he can only imagine what they look like in another's eyes - Jughead loose, wantonly allowing himself to be held and manhandled - but it's not a thought that causes anxiety.

"I should sacrifice this," Sweet Pea shares, as if he's telling Jughead a secret, "but I can't, Jug. I can't say no. I need you."

Jughead tries to speak but to no avail, moving and flexing on Pea's hand, eager for more. They're perfectly in tune because Pea stops, his fingers gone but the head of his thick cock there, teasing the opened rim. Jughead tries to focus, wanting to savour the moment, and he gets his wish, Sweet Pea grunting as he eases himself inside Jughead's tight ass, Jughead resisting despite himself. He cries out, but there's nowhere to run, he's pressed tightly against the wall, elbows on the wet bricked floor.

"Juggie," Sweet Pea whispers, right into Jug's ear, "is it too much?"

Tears fall from Jughead's eyes, the feeling of being stretched like being burnt from the inside, but the want to be filled and to submit to his new lover far stronger than his body's need to fight.

"No," Jughead cries, brokenly, "I mean, yes - but - please don't stop," he begs, so Sweet Pea doesn't. Jughead could scream as Pea slowly continues his path to be inside of him, to conquer him, but he holds it back, forces it into the pit of his stomach. He's having this. He's having this night, and everything else be damned. 

They're the damned, really, Pea and his sorcery and Jughead's love for him, spiralling out of control before he's even had the chance to feel it, but it is not important tonight.

Sweet Pea grunts, balls deep in and still with a hand across his lover's neck, originally there for comfort but now gripping a little tighter, a little more possessively. _Good_ , Jughead thinks, willing Pea to fuck him, moaning with a shriek as Pea rolls his hips, as if he can read Jughead's mind. Jughead wonders if he could burst open, if that's something that happens, because he feels paralysed by the relentless intrusion of Sweet Pea's invading cock, gaining confidence with his slightly quicker, rougher thrusts. He can't contain the moans, the way his body protests, loud and helpless cries leaving his lips while Pea's fingers close in around his neck.

"You're mine," Sweet Pea confirms. Jughead moans weakly in agreement. He can feel it in every single bone. _Yours_ , he thinks, a soft yell catching him by surprise on a particular angle when Pea rolls his hips, fucking back into him with speed, finally letting Jughead's neck out of his grip so he can pull on the Prince's hips and piston himself faster in and out of his tight little ass. Jughead doesn't feel like a Prince, not now, he feels like Sweet Pea's _conquest_ , fingers trying to find something to grab onto but there's only wet, flat brick as Sweet Pea becomes louder and louder behind him, not at all bothered about keeping them to themselves as he roars, rigid as he slams into Jughead for the last time, claiming him, coming with a cry that does gain the attention of others. Jughead cannot see them, eyes shut in pleasure as he feels full and _taken_ and complete, Pea's come inside him, his spent cock slipping out.

His own orgasm is pitiful in comparison as Pea moves his hand expertly, Jughead shuddering as he comes. Sweet Pea, growling and unapologetic and forceful inside of him - that was the height of his pleasure.

He's thankful as Pea delicately turns him around, holding his body up with ease, stroking strands of hair out of his flushed, hot face.

"Tonight marks the beginning of light," Pea says, as if that's supposed to make sense. Jughead is too full of bliss, of winner's glory, to ask or query what that could possibly fucking mean, so he just smiles lazily instead. 

"You're _my_ light," Sweet Pea insists, looking crazed with the smeared white paint, pupils blown and dilated with dopamine, "and anyone who threatens it will be blinded. They'll only know darkness."

 

Jughead shivers in the arms of Hell's most loving Prince. 

 


End file.
